


The First of May

by Ptolemia



Series: Walpurgisnacht [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, alucard 'you are both making such a huge mess of my expensive silk sheets' tepes, dick measuring contests (literal), dick measuring contests (metaphorical), sypha 'yes of course ive had an orgy before' belnades, trevor 'fingers in his ass' belmont
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ptolemia/pseuds/Ptolemia
Summary: The missing scene between chapter 38 and 39 of Walpurgisnacht where the trio finally get to spend some quality time together. By which I mean they bang.That's it basically, that's all this is - it's 8000 words of The Gang Have A Threesome. You almost certainly do not need to have read Walpurgisnacht to understand what's going on here, on account of it literally just being sex, but if you enjoy ghost witches and some kind of emotional build up to your porn, then you might enjoy that too.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Series: Walpurgisnacht [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551586
Comments: 64
Kudos: 407





	The First of May

Sypha being Sypha, Trevor has barely made it onto the bed before she’s tugging his shirt off and flinging it across the room with a gleeful smirk.

“Oho,” she says, running her hands over his chest, a possessive glint in her eye that leaves Trevor suddenly short of breath, “oh, look at you. Aren’t you handsome?”

Trevor feels the mattress shift slightly behind him, and then Alucard’s hands join hers, smoothing over Trevor’s back as he leans in to kiss him between the shoulder blades. “Mmm,” he purrs, his breath coming shallow and a little ragged as he presses an open-mouthed kiss on the back of Trevor’s neck, “ _very_ handsome.”

“You sound like you’re talking to a dog,” Trevor says, gruffly, trying not to grin or go bright red, and failing miserably on both counts.

“Yes, we’re aiming our praise at your intelligence level,” says Sypha, insinuating herself onto his lap and leaning up to kiss him, just gently, her eyes warm and bright and immeasurably fond.

“Ah, thanks,” says Trevor, hearing Alucard snort behind him, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and thanks to you too, dickwad.”

Alucard hums, his long slim fingers skating lower over Trevor’s hips toward the waistband of his trousers. “You’re welcome, Belmont,” he says, his grip on Trevor’s hips shifting to just this side of painful. He kisses the back of Trevor’s neck again, this time with the faintest hint of fang.

Trevor makes a noise like all the air is leaving his body at once, which, in fairness, is pretty much what it feels like, too. He feels Alucard smirk into the back of his neck as Sypha gets a solid fistful of his hair and tugs him down into another kiss, this one significantly dirtier than the first. Trevor whimpers, bucking his hips forward – or at least, he tries to; Alucard’s slim fingers press into his hips just a fraction, and he finds he can’t move at all. _That_ gets a bigger whimper, and a chuckle from Alucard.

Sypha pulls back a little, one hand still coiled in his hair, the other stroking slowly down the side of his neck and along the broad muscle of his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Trevor sees a flash of golden blonde, and then he feels the weight of Alucard pressed up along the lines of his back as he leans to kiss the palm of Sypha’s hand. She giggles, at that, eyes bright. And then her expression softens slightly, as she gazes from Trevor to Alucard and back again, one hand coming down to cup Trevor’s cheek, the other reaching over his shoulder so she can gently trace her fingers over the sharp thin line of Alucard’s jaw. “My boys,” she says, her voice soft and full of wonder, “look at you both.” She kisses Alucard, and then Trevor, her eyes brimming with warmth and fire and heat and something else, too, rarer and far more strange. She looks like home. She looks like she _feels_ at home, too, which makes something in Trevor’s chest squeeze suddenly - like he can’t breathe, but in a good way.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, gruffly, almost before he’s realised he’s saying it, and behind him he hears Alucard hum his agreement.

“I- hmm,” Sypha says, and then she grins, and her hands slip down to Trevor’s belt, tugging sharply at the waistband of his trousers. “Alright, come on, get these off so that I can at least get my hands on a dick before I go and get sappy on you both.”

Trevor thinks that he has probably never undone a belt so fast in his life.

Alucard chuckles as Trevor hastily shucks his trousers off, and Sypha waggles a finger at him in mock-warning; “You’re next, idiot, don’t laugh at him. Come here-” and with that she scrambles around Trevor and practically launches herself at Alucard, who ends up flat on his back on the bed beneath her and looking exceptionally smug about it.

“Oh no,” he drawls, “this extremely attractive woman wants to get me naked. Whatever shall I do?”

“Take your fucking clothes off,” says Sypha, pinning his hands back against the pillow and kissing him fiercely.

Alucard blinks, looking a little dazed as she pulls back - and then his expression sharpens, and curls his hand into the tattered fabric of her nightgown with a wicked grin. “Ladies first,” he says, and with a single sharp tug the entire garment tears itself apart in his grasp, the torn seam along the side unspooling rapidly - until the whole thing falls apart and Sypha is left abruptly, gloriously, utterly naked. Trevor fumbles with his trousers halfway through pulling them off and almost falls backward.

Sypha gives an incredulous little laugh, blinking down at Alucard, and the shredded remains of her nightgown. “You bastard,” she says, still half-laughing but trying to fix him with a properly stern glare, “I liked that dress. I’m going to get you back for that!”

“There are plenty more like it in the castle, but you’re more than welcome to- _ah_ ,” says Alucard, as she shifts her leg so that she’s properly straddling him and grinds down. “Oh, fuck.”

Sypha winks at him, then tosses her hair back and glances over her shoulder at Trevor, who’s sitting watching with one trouser leg still on, totally slack-jawed. “Darling, your trousers, please. And your underwear, too, while you’re at it.”

“I- right, yeah,” says Trevor, kicking his trousers off the edge of the bed in a daze and fumbling with the laces of his underwear.

Sypha watches him struggle for a moment with transparent amusement, before she takes pity on him and crawls over to kiss his shoulder, and then his mouth, and then his forehead. “Here, let me help you with out,” she says, trailing her fingers down the broad flat plane of his stomach, which lurches with a punch-drunk bolt of arousal at the thought of where her hand is heading. And then, paying absolutely no attention to the laces, she slides her palm over the thin linen of his underwear - which, at this point, is doing a fairly shoddy job of concealing his half-hard dick - and gives him a long, firm, very deliberate stroke. And she holds eye-contact while she does it. And she looks _delighted_.

Trevor is certain that, if he ever did have a brain, it has now been irreparably damaged and destroyed. Which is ridiculous, really – it’s not as though he's never had his dick touched before, it really shouldn’t be something that’s making him lose all capacity for thought but… well, it’s Sypha.

Sypha, for her part, raises an eyebrow at him, clearly trying not to laugh at his slack-jawed expression. “Trevor? Hello? Anyone in there?”

“Uh, I- I’m not sure this is helping me take my underwear off,” he says, dumbly.

She winks. “Oh, right, I see.” She loosens the laces with a few sharp tugs, and slips her hand into his underwear to take him properly in hand, which _holy fucking shit_ , well, that’s… that’s a thing. She smiles, sweetly, batting her lashes up at him. “How about now?”

“Holy shit,” says Trevor, “Fuck.” And then he says, “You have… great tits. I would die for you.” He’s not exactly sure why he feels the need to say either of those things exactly at this moment, but he suspects it might be because his brain-mouth filter no longer works, on account of him not having a brain any more.

Sypha kisses him, though, all sweetness and light, and her hand keeps moving over his length - so he must have said something right. “Trevor,” she says, breathy and serious against his lips, “oh, Trevor I would die for you too. And,” she says, reaching up to pinch his nipple with her free hand and cackling when he gasps, “you also have great tits.”

“ _Ah_ ,” says Trevor, with his trademark elegance and grace, “Oh. Huh.”

Her hand slides over the tip of his dick and away, and he pouts. She grins as she sits back on her haunches, looking him up and down speculatively before reaching out to pinch his nipple again and watching his expression very, very closely as he squirms, swallowing back a groan. Trevor has no idea what she sees, but she looks very pleased with herself, so it must be what she was looking for. “Oh Trevor,” she says, “oh, _and_ the hair pulling? I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”

“What about hair pulling?”

She reaches up and grabs a fistful of Trevor’s hair, close up against the back of his scalp, and ever so gently tugs.

Trevor moans.

“ _That_ about hair pulling,” says Sypha, matter of fact as anything.

Trevor blinks. “Oh, right… yeah. That.”

She waggles her eyebrows with affectionate smugness, and then busies herself helping him out of his underwear – properly, this time, not just getting her hands on his dick under the pretence of doing it. Or _mostly_ properly, anyway – this is Sypha, after all.

Over her shoulder, Trevor catches Alucard’s eye. He’s splayed out across the pillows like a statue of a Greek god, his delicately tied-back locks tumbling artfully over one naked shoulder, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed. He’s also obviously, painfully hard in his practically painted on leather trousers. Trevor rolls his eyes. “Take your trousers off, dickhead. You’re about to lose circulation in your bollocks, and then your dick will fall off, and _then_ what will we do?”

“You seem to be managing just fine,” says Alucard, and although he’s still slouching in an almost convincing facsimile of relaxation, his voice comes out more than a little rough around the edges, his eyes wide, his bare chest and his arms all taut lines of muscle and sinew.

Trevor, by now properly naked, grabs his underwear out of Sypha’s hands and moves to fling it at Alucard – but she stops him before he manages it with a stern glare, hands on her hips. “I swear that if you two start throwing things at each other I won’t fuck either of you,” she says.

Trevor sighs. “But he deserves it!”

“I wasn’t throwing anything,” splutters Alucard, trying and failing to surreptitiously put aside the pillow he was evidently about to launch at Trevor, “this is his fau-”

Sypha raises an eyebrow, and his words die in his throat.

“Oh, alright. Fine. Yes, I promise I won’t throw anything at Belmont.”

“Good-”

“- as long as he doesn’t throw anything at me.”

Sypha sighs. “Really?”

But Trevor nods. “No, that sounds fair to me. Here - mutual agreement to not throw anything at each other until after we’re done fucking?” he says, holding his hand out to Alucard, who grins, and shakes.

“Agreed. The common purpose is strong enough for us to momentarily overcome our natural enmity, Belmont.”

Sypha throws her hands in the air, exasperated. “You’re both idiots. You’re lucky I like you so much.”

“We are,” says Alucard, sitting up so he can pull her close and kiss her, “very lucky.”

“We’re lucky _and_ we’re idiots,” agrees Trevor, contentedly watching the way that Alucard’s hands tremble slightly against Sypha’s back, and the way she sighs and curves into him when he kisses her.

“Well, I’m glad you know it, at least,” says Sypha, and she smiles, reaching down to stroke Alucard’s thigh, and laughing as his ears turn pink. “Seriously though, do you need a hand getting out of those trousers? They’re looking a little… tight.”

“Uh, no, it’s – I can do it, it’s fine,” says Alucard, his clever long fingers uncharacteristically clumsy as he fumbles over the laces. After a moment he glances up at Sypha and Trevor, his expression hesitant, a little unsure. “Are- you’re going to watch?”

Sypha runs a comforting hand over his thigh. “Would you rather we didn’t?”

“I- no. Yes? I don’t know. Um.” Then he shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just, uh, I don’t-” his perfect marble brow wrinkles, and he bites his lip. “Um. I’m just not sure how I- I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never taken your trousers off?” says Trevor.

Sypha sighs, and shakes her head.

Alucard gives him a long, cool stare. “No, not that.”

Trevor contemplated this. After a moment he blinks, and cocks his head. Surely Alucard can’t mean... “Wait, you’re a _virgin?!_ ”

“No!” says Alucard, flush travelling down his face to his chest, and out along his shoulders, “Or, well, not exactly, erm-” he glances at Sypha.

“What he means,” she says, matter-of-factly, “is that I sucked him off when we were upstairs in the study the other night, but he doesn’t know whether that counts or not.”

Alucard lowers his burning face into his hands and groans. After a moment, he says, very quietly, “Also I, uh, gave a guy a hand job at a vampire masquerade one time. Or, um, twice, actually, but it was the same evening, so-”

Trevor reaches out and gently pries his hands away from his face. “Alucard?”

Alucard doesn’t meet his gaze. “What?”

“That’s- it’s fine. You know that, right? We don’t give a shit. Although I definitely want to hear about the vampire masquerade sometime. That sounds… horrifying. But maybe also fun?”

Alucard shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Well, it, ah… it worked out alright for me. Obviously.”

Trevor snorts.

Sypha rolls her eyes, and reaches out to squeeze Alucard’s shoulder. “And Alucard, we won’t do anything you don’t want. If you want to stop-”

“No!” he says, rather loudly and incredibly eagerly - and then, more softly, “No, it’s not that. I just figured that you both probably, um, know what you’re doing a lot more than I do and, uh, I… might not be very good? Um.”

“Darling,” says Sypha, with an affectionate shake of her head, “you really oughtn’t worry about that. I mean, the worst that can happen is we have to do it again – you know, so you can practise, of course.”

“And hey, Alucard,” says Trevor, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand and raising a rueful eyebrow; “I promise that however shit you are, it’s definitely not gonna be the worst fuck I’ve ever had. I mean, I’m normally drunk, and – well, obviously it’s tough to stay hard when you’re drunk. Which is, you know, bad no matter what, but it’s even worse if both of you have dicks, and you’re _both_ drunk. And you’re, you know, in a mouldy old barn outside a shitty pub in god-knows-where in some tiny country town, and it’s cold enough to freeze your fucking balls off, and then you get hay in your mouth, and your shitty knee is acting up again, and then you don’t even get to finish because half way through you get attacked by night creatures, and – well, you know, that kind of thing.”

Sypha and Alucard both stare at him with twin expressions of mixed confusion and vague concern.

Trevor blinks. “You do know what I mean, right?”

Sypha steeples her fingers and fixes him with one of her more piercing stares. “No, Trevor. That- that honestly sounds like a very specific incident.”

“Oh, no, that’s happened more than once,” he says, blithely.

She sighs. “I worry about you, sometimes.”

“In a _barn_?” says Alucard, looking vaguely appalled.

“Well, unlike renting a room,” says Trevor, “barns are free. And hay is pretty soft, so-”

“Yeah, look,” says Sypha, “the barn bit is perfectly normal, but-”

Alucard turns to her with an expression of utter betrayal. “A barn? A _barn_ , Sypha?”

“Yeah, what? It’s big and there’s hay so it’s kind of a nice forgiving surface, and if you put your robes down over a hay bale it’s not even that scratchy, so it’s like-”

“Right!” says Trevor, “Exactly.”

“So how are you any better than Trevor?” says Alucard, shaking his head.

Sypha rolls her eyes. “Look, it’s one thing to fuck in a barn in summer when it’s warm and sunny and, you know, a person or two or seven brings you some nice meadow flowers and says you’re pretty and stuff – it’s quite another to fuck in a barn that’s cold and mouldy and, knowing Trevor, probably easily within sight and earshot of the pub it’s attached to.”

“A… person or two or s _even_?” says Alucard, with eyes like saucers.

Sypha shrugs. “Look, here’s a secret; if you are wasting your time counting the number of people at the orgy, it’s probably not a very good orgy.”

Trevor puts his chin in his hands and fixes her with a gaze of utter adoration. “Sypha, you know that you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, right?”

“Mmm, I know,” she says, tilting her head to rest against his shoulder and glancing up at him with a self-satisfied little grin, “And hey, it was pretty good. But I’d rather be here than there.” Her gaze shifts toward Alucard, and she reaches out the stroke a single strand of golden hair off his forehead, tucking it carefully behind his ear. “I’d rather be here than anywhere, right now. With you. With both of you.” Her free hand finds Trevor’s as she says that, and squeezes, ever so gently. He squeezes back, and tries to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat.

“Oh,” says Alucard. “ _Oh._ ” It takes a moment, but the smile that blooms over his face is like sunlight; bright and filled with hope. And then he launches himself at the pair of them with utter, feral glee, and they all go tumbling backwards onto the bed in a haze of covers and flying feathers from the pillows, laughing and shrieking and grinning at one another in sheer, bewildered delight.

“Alucard!” squeals Sypha, half breathless with delight as she’s thrown back against the soft expanse of the warm feather-bed.

“We did it,” says Alucard, and he kisses her, and then Trevor, and positively beams, all fang and fury and raw, untainted delight, “We’re alive! We’re fucking alive! And we’re real, and this-” he shakes his head in baffled wonder and kisses them both again, and then once more for luck; “and this is real, and- and-” he frowns. “And god, these trousers are so fucking tight, hang on.”

Trevor roars with laughter at that, and then winces as Alucard scrambles backward and manages to kick him directly in the broken rib. He barely seems to notice – he’s too busy trying to claw his stupid leather trousers off with all the dignity and grace of a rather mangy feral cat. “You- ow, fuck, watch it, we don’t all have magical healing powers, you handsome fucking bastard. I’m injured, you have to be gentle with me.”

“Sorry,” says Alucard, glancing up with a suitably chastened expression – only slightly ruined by the hint of fang - before returning to tearing his trousers straight off his legs with now distinctly claw-like nails. “Just a little… distracted… aha!” With a loud leathery tearing noise, he pulls his ruined trousers clean off, and flings them over the end of the bed.

He’s not wearing underwear – of course he’s not, the handsome fucking bastard – which is a fact that seems to occur to him at exactly the moment Trevor and Sypha realise it, and he flushes, shifting his hands to cover himself.

Sypha giggles. “Are you shy? You’re s _o_ cute.”

Trevor shakes his head. “He’s just embarrassed because he knows I’m bigger.”

Alucard flips him off. “You are not.”

“Am too.”

“Well go on then, show us, if you’re so sure.”

Alucard obliges, and takes the opportunity to flip him off with the other hand too, although Trevor is mostly too busy staring at his dick to notice. Sypha wasn’t lying – the flush really does go all the way down. Shit. Fuck. He’s so handsome that it’s actually making Trevor’s chest hurt.

Next to him, Sypha gives a long-suffering sigh. “Are you two really going to-”

“Yes, absolutely,” says Trevor, and then, “Hey, Alucard?”

“What?”

“My dick’s bigger than yours.”

“I’m so tired,” says Sypha.

“Fuck off, Belmont,” says Alucard. “I must have half an inch on you, don’t be stupid.”

Trevor snorts. “Oh? Why don’t you come over here and prove it, then?”

Alucard’s eyes glitter. “And how would I go about doing that, hmm?”

“Get over here, and I’ll show you.”

There’s a reddish flash of light, and Alucard vanishes momentarily, before re-appearing almost nose-to-nose with Trevor, looking extremely pleased with himself. “Go on then,” he says, “show me.”

Trevor puts an arm around his waist and tugs him closer, until they’re both kneeling up on the bed, pressed against each other and grinning. “Here,” he says, shifting his hips slightly and sliding a hand between them so he can line their dicks up.

Alucard makes a very soft, very desperate noise.

“Mmm?” says Trevor, adjusting his grip slightly so he has a better hold on them both and laughing as Alucard twitches into his hand. “Holding up alright there?”

Alucard nods, his jaw clenched. “Fine,” he manages to choke out, after a moment, and then, “God, Trevor,” right against his lips, his breath hot, his chest trembling.

Trevor can’t not kiss him, at that; he’s a marvel, he thinks, a wonder. All hard sharp lines and impossibly angular edges but soft, too; his skin, his hair, his eyes. The way he kisses back, delicate and fierce all at once. So Trevor kisses him, again, and shifts his grip between them, and strokes, slowly, slowly, almost painfully slow - just enough to take the edge off the desire that pools low in the pit of his stomach. “Good?” he says, after a moment.

“I’m not,” says Alucard, sounding more than slightly short of breath, “entirely sure how this is helping us solve our disagreement, but I am – _ah_ – nevertheless in favour of- _fuck_ -”

Sypha groans. “I’m going to die,” she says, emphatically, “But I’m going to kill both of you first - see if I don’t.”

“Do you mind?” says Trevor, “We’re having a very important moment of male bonding here.”

“Hhhh- ah-” says Alucard, burying his crimson face in Trevor’s shoulder and rocking forward slightly.

“I’m going to kill you both,” Sypha repeats, “and nobody is going to blame me for it. You’re both being idiots, which I can accept, but come _on_ \- I can’t even see anything properly from here! Don’t you have hearts at all? You’re monsters, the pair of you,” she says, with a melodramatic little pout.

“Alright, yeah, fair point,” Trevor laughs, letting Alucard go – he whines, and pouts endearingly – and reaching a hand out to Sypha. “C’mon then, get over here.”

She doesn’t need asking twice; in half a heartbeat she’s wiggling her way in between them, grinning with pure unadulterated delight. “Oh, look at you two,” she says, completely unable to sit still, her hands darting from one chest to the other, up the line of Alucard’s hipbone and then down along Trevor’s thigh. She sighs contentedly. “Ah, this is my happy place, it really is.” Trevor has to agree, honestly – he can hardly believe his luck. He’d think he was dreaming, if they weren’t both so warm and real and solid in his arms.

“Mmm,” says Alucard, in what Trevor can only assume is agreement, based on the way he’s kissing up Sypha's neck. He reaches her jawline and draws back a little, his face red and his eyes bright, “I can’t begin to say how I had hoped that you both might-” he shakes his head, looking more than a little dazed, “and I pushed it aside and thought it could never- that it wouldn’t- that you wouldn’t-” he shakes his head again. “And now here we are…” his hand trails its way up Sypha’s thigh as he speaks, and Trevor can feel the way her breath catches in her chest, the way she tenses slightly in delicious anticipation.

She kisses him, her eyes glittering. “And now here we are. Indeed.”

Alucard’s fingers hesitate just a hair’s breadth short of their mark, and he glances at her under his soft blonde lashes, half shy and half giddy with excitement; “Can I…?”

She looks at him sidelong, tapping her chin and humming thoughtfully as though she’s having to give the matter serious consideration.

“Please,” he says. His voice cracks slightly over the word.

“Hmm. Well, since you asked so nicely…” She grins, one hand gently smoothing a loose lock of hair back behind his ear. “Trevor,” she says, not breaking eye contact with Alucard, “open your mouth.”

Trevor opens his mouth. After a moment his brain catches up and he’s about to ask why she wants him to do that, only then she’s taking Alucard’s hand very gently in hers, and lifting it up, and pressing his finger’s against Trevor’s parted lips and – ah.

Right, thinks Trevor. Yeah, that’s… shit. Fuck. Alucard is wide-eyed and frozen, momentarily, his breath coming through in a sudden, stuttering shudder. He looks about a wrecked as Trevor feels, but Trevor recovers before he does, wraps his lips around the two slim fingers in his mouth, and sucks.

“Fucking _shit_ ,” says Alucard.

Sypha laughs, but her gaze is still full of heat as she watches Trevor swallow Alucard’s first two fingers down to the palm. “You should do three fingers,” she says, grinning like a cat with a mouse under its paw. Or two mice, more accurately. God, she really is something.

“I should- oh, right,” says Alucard looking increasingly like he might actually pass out, and then, as Trevor obligingly opens his mouth a little wider, “Jesus fuck, Belmont, I swear, if I’d worked out what good use your mouth could be put to sooner, I-”

Whatever he was about to say, it splutters out into a choked wheeze as Sypha reaches down and takes him in hand, giving him a careful, experimental stroke. All the blood drains out of his face as his eyes flutter closed for half a second, before rushing back in, red and hot and gorgeous, as he manages to choke out a slightly strangled, “Sypha- fuck-”

She laughs, and kisses his cheek, almost chastely – were it not for the fact that her hand was still working over his cock below. “Yes, darling?”

“I-” he catches Trevor’s eye and swallows heavily. “God. Alright. This is-” he closes his eyes, and takes a long, steadying breath before looking back toward Sypha, who smirks. “Can I- can I touch you? Please.”

Her gaze softens, and she kisses him again, on the lips this time. “Of course. Here, Trevor, open your mouth again, please.” She reaches out to take Alucard’s hand from his mouth, running her free hand through Trevor’s hair as she does. “Good boy,” she says, and she kisses him, bumping her nose against his and grinning, warm and encouraging and safe. “Thank you.”

She kisses him again before she turns her attention back to Alucard. Trevor thinks he has probably never been so hard in his fucking life, and that if any more blood goes to his dick he will almost certainly die instantly.

It would, he has to admit, be a pretty good way to go.

Sypha guides Alucard’s hand back between her legs, kissing the corner of his mouth as he hesitates. “Here,” she says, “that’s it, slowly, start with one finger and- mmm, exactly – curl a bit – that’s it, perfect.” She grins, her toes curling, her nose doing that adorable little wrinkling thing it does when she’s particularly pleased with herself.

Trevor has to kiss her, obviously, and she does the adorable nose-wrinkling thing again when he does, giggling as she lets herself flop back onto the feather pillows, dragging Trevor down with her and cupping his face in her hands as she kisses him again.

She pulls back for a fraction of a second, long enough to grind out a slightly breathy, “Two fingers, please, Alucard.” He does as he's told, if her expression is anything to go by. She looks up at Trevor, her cheeks a little flushed, and makes a soft little noise of contentment before she kisses him again. There’s something about Sypha’s expression, about her openness and the way she wears her heart on her sleeve without a moment of self-consciousness, that makes Trevor feel warm all the way through. She’s a force of nature, and she kisses like the sea kissing the shore; undeniable and unstoppable and full of wild delight. Trevor is constantly filled with doubt, but Sypha leaves no room for it, which is somehow terrifying and comforting at the same time.

She bites his lip as he pulls back for a breath, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that Alucard’s job?”

“Trevor, please. You don’t have to be a vampire to want to bite somebody as handsome as you are; you just need to have eyes.”

“And teeth,” deadpans Alucard, pressing his fingers into Sypha again as he snaps playfully at Trevor’s neck.

Trevor feels a shiver down his spine at that, two parts lust to one part instinctive animal terror. “Well, go on then,” he says, “bite me, why don’t you?” He can almost feel the weight of his ancestor’s collective horror at that, and for once – he is delighted to realise – he literally does not care, not even a tiny bit. Sucks to be every other Belmont who didn’t work out how much fun they could have been having if they’d bothered being a bit more friendly to a vampire or two – but it’s their loss, honestly. He’s not going to let that stop him.

Alucard buries his face in the crook of Trevor’s neck and breathes heavily. “I can hear your heartbeat,” he says, his lips grazing lightly over Trevor’s jugular as he speaks, “I can hear both of your heartbeats. And you smell… hmm.” He licks a stripe up Trevor’s neck and sighs contentedly. “God, you smell delicious.”

“That’s the first time anyone has ever said that to me,” grunts Trevor, and Alucard laughs.

“I’m sure it is. It was almost better when you stank of shit, actually. Less distracting.” He draws out the last word, pressing his mouth against Trevor’s neck, fangs pressing in but not quite breaking the skin.

Trevor groans as Alucard pulls away and turns back toward Sypha, his hand between her thighs slowly building pace as he leans down to press open-mouthed kisses across her breasts. “Oh, fucking come _on_ , stop being such a tease.”

Alucard looks up at him with open hunger, clearly holding himself back. “I have a realistic idea of how well I will be able to focus if I bite you now, Trevor. Patience.”

Sypha looks up at Trevor’s frustrated pout and clearly takes pity; she strokes a slow hand up his thigh, then licks her palm and takes a hold of his dick with a soft, “Poor Trevor. And he’s been so good, too.”

“I’m sure he’ll live.”

“Hmm, I suppose he will.”

“No I won’t,” says Trevor, gruffly, “I’m going to die. You’re both so hot that I’m going to die of it.” He shifts his legs slightly to grant Sypha better access, and makes a soft little whining noise when she obliges with another slow, firm stroke.

“You’re so cute,” she says.

Alucard hums contentedly, his face still pressed against Sypha’s breasts. “You really are.” He takes a slow, steadying breath. “Sypha, are- do you-”

She hums. “Mmm. Three fingers. You’re doing very well. Here, let me just-” she reaches her free hand down between her thighs, then hesitates, giving Trevor a long, thoughtful look. “Trevor, would you-”

“Yes,” says Trevor, “yes, definitely, absolutely.” He’s kissing his way down the side of her hip already, the anticipation so strong he can hardly even spare the brain space to miss her hand as it pulls away from his dick. He flattens himself out on the bed and grinds his hips down into the mattress as he presses a kiss just above her soft-coiled ginger-blonde curls.

She laughs. “Oh, so you _can_ listen to me, when you want to, hmm?”

Trevor doesn’t say anything; he just grunts his agreement and puts his mouth on her. She’s perfect; warm and slick and slightly salty against his tongue.

Alucard pauses, and Sypha lets out a frustrated little mewling noise. “Is that…” he frowns. “Is that allowed?”

Sypha makes a noise that's half laugh and half groan. “Is that- yes, of course it’s allowed, keep your hand moving.” She curls her fingers into the back of Trevor’s hair and presses him down onto her with a sigh. “Do you know what he said to me when I sucked his dick the other day?”  
Trevor’s mouth is too busy to make much of a response, so he settles for a, “Hmm?” and grins when he feels her twitching slightly at the vibrations.

“He- ah – he said, ‘Sypha, is that entirely hygienic?’”

Trevor snorts at that, and above him he hears Alucard trying to stifle a laugh, “Look, I- it seemed like a reasonable question.”

Sypha laughs too, but it comes out breathy and unfocused, and Trevor doubles down on his efforts and she shifts between his mouth and Alucard’s fingers with an increasingly fervent rhythm.

She comes apart surprisingly quickly after that, her eyes fluttering closed and the occasional, “Left a bit, Trevor,” or “Gently, there, like that,” lapsing into incoherent mumbling and then gentle, fluttering moans. Eventually she presses both hands to the back of Trevor’s head with a loud, gasping shout, and grinds into him, hips lifting off the bed as she shakes, shuddering herself apart against his mouth and Alucard’s fingers.

And then she’s done, and the pressure against the back of Trevor’s skull relaxes as she flops back down onto the bed, tugging him up so she can kiss him, ecstatic and full of wonder. Alucard is close behind him, and she kisses him too, all three of them so tangled and entwined that they seem to breathe as one being.

She smiles, a beatific, warm-eyed, utterly sated look in her eyes. “You know, you two are very funny when you argue but I think, on balance, that I perhaps enjoy your teamwork even more.”

Alucard laughs, turning to kiss Trevor’s shoulder as he does, “Mmm. Much as I hate to admit it, you may have a very good point there.”

“I always have a very good point. You should know that by now.” She licks her lips and stretches herself out with an indulgent little shudder, before hauling herself upright and grinning. “Alright, who’s next?”

“Well-” begins Trevor, and then swallows loudly as she gets her hand on his arse and squeezes firmly.

“You know,” she says, “I was thinking earlier that I could probably take you both at once, if I lined you up right, but…” she taps her chin, thoughtfully. “Hmm. Perhaps that’s something for another day. I feel like it might take some time, and we’d need oil…”

“We’re not going on another fucking hunt for oil,” says Trevor, firmly. “Not today, anyway.”

Alucard laughs. “Belmont, if it’s just regular oil you’re after, we wouldn’t need to go further than the kitchens.”

“Oh, so you want to go and get it? You want to get out of the nice warm bed and go search the kitchen?”

He smirks, leaning in for a kiss. “No,” he purrs, “not really. Too much to do here.”

His dick brushes against Trevor’s thigh as they kiss, and Trevor makes a muffled groaning noise against his mouth. “Can I-” he hesitates, and then swallows down whatever vague tattered remnants of pride he has left and says, “If I don’t get to suck your dick in the next thirty seconds I might actually cry. Why the fuck do you have such a nice dick? Fuck you.”

Sypha snort laughs – Trevor can’t tell whether it’s at what he was saying or at the warring expressions of confusion and arousal that dart across Alucard’s face. “You- what?” he says, after a moment.

Trevor sighs. “Please can I suck your dick. Please. _Please_.”

Alucard inhales sharply, then stutters out a slightly stunned, “I- sure. Yes. Christ, Belmont, you need to warn me before you come out with things like that.”

Trevor doesn’t listen to him; he just gives him a shove so he rolls onto his back, and presses kisses to his inner thigh. When he glances up, Alucard has propped himself up onto his elbows so he can watch, his eyes wide as dinner plates, a familiar splotchy red flush spreading down his neck. He’s also so painfully hard that Trevor almost feels sorry for him – although not quite so sorry that he doesn’t have the presence of mind to get a firm grip on his hips before he leans in and swallows him down.

He’s very quickly given reason to be glad for that - Alucard jerks up into his mouth with almost enough force to break Trevor’s arms, and then chokes out a quiet, “Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t expecting-”

Trevor grins, pulling back a little before hollowing his cheeks and sinking back down onto Alucard’s cock with a vague hum of amusement.

Alucard makes an absolutely ruined whimpering noise, and claws a hole straight through the bedsheet below him – but he does, to his credit, keep his hips mostly still this time. Something about that makes Trevor feel… warm, somehow. Christ, he really has got it bad if he can’t even suck dick without getting all sappy and wanting to kiss somebody.

He’s so busy focusing on Alucard and his stupid fucking perfect dick and his stupid fucking perfect little moaning noises and his hair and his flushed skin and his shaking legs that he loses track of where Sypha is. This, obviously, is always a dangerous mistake - as he realises when she slaps his arse without warning, and he almost chokes on Alucard’s cock.

He pulls back with an obscene _pop_ , and gives her what he hopes is a glare, but is probably actually just an expression of sheer, naked arousal. “Do you mind? I’m trying to focus here.”

“Sorry,” she says, looking absolutely not sorry at all. She tilts her head to one side, and runs her palm over his rear with a thoughtful expression. “How do you feel about things in your arse?”

Trevor makes a strangled noise and has to breathe through his nose for a moment to force himself to focus at least a little on being able to speak. “Good,” he manages, eventually, “great, very good, yeah. Ten out of ten. Possibly an eleven, even.”

She shakes her head fondly. “You’re so predictable.”

Alucard groans, and Trevor glances back at him with another pang of arousal. He’s still so hard, his dick wet, now, glistening with spit and precum. “Can you stop asking Trevor questions, Sypha? I’m trying to get my dick sucked here.”

Sypha cackles. “Sorry. I need to borrow Trevor’s mouth, but I promise I’ll give him back in a second.”

Alucard’s head thumps back down onto the pillow behind him and he groans again. “You’d better.”

Sypha leans herself over Trevor, her breasts pressed up against his naked back, and takes a moment to kiss between his shoulders before hooking a couple of fingers into his mouth and saying, “Suck.”

Trevor doesn’t need telling twice. Honestly, he didn’t even really need telling once, but he’s not one to complain about attractive naked people giving him orders. Quite the opposite, actually.

After a moment Sypha pulls her fingers back out of his mouth and kisses the back of his neck. “Well done.” Her free hand strokes over the spot where she kissed him, very gently, and then she gets a proper grip on his neck and pushes him back down onto Alucard’s cock.

Alucard exhales sharply. “Thank you,” he manages, panting slightly.

Trevor breathes through his nose, and tries not to shiver with anticipation as Sypha runs her hand down his spine and strokes along the curve of his ass. She pauses with a spit-slicked finger pressed against him, and kisses the small of his back. “Ready?”

“Stop asking him question- _oh_ ,” says Alucard, as Sypha presses the tip of her finger in and Trevor groans onto his dick.

Sypha goes very, very slowly, which whatever part of Trevor is still capable of rational thought can recognise is probably smart given that they don’t have any oil, but he really isn’t in any kind of state to be patient with it, so he arches his back and presses himself back into her, and then forward onto Alucard’s dick, and then back onto Sypha, and then forward onto Alucard’s dick, and then…

His world narrows down to a single pinprick of light, and he digs his fingers into Alucard’s hips in some vague attempt to maintain focus on not choking and not totally collapsing; his legs and arms are shaking so badly now so that he can hardly hold himself up on his hands and knees.

Alucard gives him a scant half-second of warning with a vague, “I think-” before he comes. Trevor wasn’t exactly expecting more than that, given the completely obscene noises he’d been making, so he swallows pretty much everything, pulling slowly off the end of Alucard’s dick and pressing hot, wet kisses along his inner thigh. As he does, Sypha presses a second finger into Trevor, and reaches her free hand round to curl around his dick and stroke.

Trevor makes a noise that he barely recognises as his own voice, and spills over the sheets, his knees buckling so that he ends up collapsed half on top of Alucard, his mind – for a second, at least – entirely, gloriously blank.

“Well,” says Alucard, after a moment, “fuck.”

“Mmmph,” says Trevor, which is about as close as he can get to speech for now.

Sypha laughs, running a soothing hand over his back before gently nudging him to roll over. He obliges, wincing slightly as his stomach pulls off the now distinctly sticky sheets. Right. Yeah. Because he’d just collapsed into a pool of his own come. Always classy, Trevor. Always classy.

Sypha, however, doesn’t seem remotely put out by the state of him; she trails a finger along Trevor’s messy, ruined thighs, and then licks it clean with an utterly wicked grin. Trevor’s dick gives a valiant twitch, at that, but he’s done. He’s too tired to even contemplate getting hard again.

Next to him, Alucard sighs. “Sypha, please, don’t make any more of a mess of the bed than we’ve already managed to make.”

“I’m not making a mess,” she protests, “I’m cleaning up, technically, if you think about it.”

Trevor nods. “She’s right, you know.”

Alucard shakes his head, and hauls himself upright with a groan. “You’re both disgusting.” Then he pauses, and his expression softens as he looks at them both. Eventually he says, “That was… incredible, though. Even if you did ruin my sheets. I’m going to… I’m going to grab a cloth. And some water.”

Trevor makes a vague grab for him as he moves to leave, and whines when he pulls free. “You have a weird fetish for being clean,” he grumbles. “Come back over here and cuddle, bastard.”

Alucard stretches out and yawns, naked and lovely in the firelight as he glances back over his shoulder and grins. “In a minute. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not sleep in filth.”

“I’ve slept in worse,” says Trevor, but he doesn’t object when Alucard returns with a warm towel and a bowl of hot water, and carefully cleans his thighs, and his stomach, and kisses him once he’s clean. He gives the bedding a wipe, too, for good measure, and sighs.

“I think that’s actually going to stain the bedding,” he says, ruefully. "Urgh, and there's a hole in the sheet. We'll have to take a trip to the laundry room tomorrow." 

“Why are you-” begins Sypha, as he takes her hand and gently sponges the towel over that, too.

“Because you had your fingers up Trevor’s arse, which is possibly the most profoundly unclean orifice known to man. Or woman, as the case may be.”

“You’d be surprised,” grumbles Trevor, but Sypha just laughs, and submits to being patted clean by Alucard without further complaint.

Eventually, once he’s satisfied that he’s got his bedding and his partners as clean as they're likely to get, Alucard pads off to the other side of the room and puts the towel and the bowl aside on a low table by the fire. Trevor yawns, and takes the opportunity to roll into the centre of the bed. “I want to be in the middle,” he says.

Alucard’s lip quirks up as he crawls back into the bed, “Yes,” he says, dryly, “I think I got that impression earlier, too.”

Trevor rolls his eyes. “Alright, yeah, ha ha, very funny. You got me.”

Alucard kisses his forehead. “Always, Belmont.”

Beside him, Sypha yawns loudly, and tucks her arms around his waist. “Leave him be - hero of the hour gets to be in the middle without being mocked for it." She yawns again. "God, I’m so tired. I think I might sleep for a thousand years, now.”

Alucard hums, pulling the covers over them as he curls up against Trevor’s other side, his slim, wiry body unusually warm and pliant, his gaze soft. “Yes. It’s been… quite a day.”

There’s a lull of silence, and Trevor feels his eyes begin to drift closed, and then Sypha stretches her arm over his chest so she has a proper hold of him and of Alucard, and she says, “I love you both so much. I adore you. You’re wonderful.”

Trevor’s eyes snap open. It’s half-dark now, with the fire in the grate beginning to die down, but he can see her clear as anything, propped up on one elbow and watching them both with an expression of such infinite tenderness that he can hardly breathe, looking at it. Her gaze is so achingly sincere that he feels as though she must be able to see beneath his skin, to his blood and his bones and his pounding heart. Her eyes look a little damp, and he thinks, holy shit. She really means that.

Alucard makes a soft, half-feral growl in the base of his throat, pressing himself up against Trevor’s back and kissing first the side of his jaw, and then the palm of Sypha’s hand. “I- likewise. I feel so- I would do anything for you, I would- the two of you are-” he hesitates, and Trevor feels the way he tremors slightly, the hot huff of air as he exhales, his breath coming out a little shaky, even while his voice is utterly certain. And then he says, simply, “You are the world.”

And Trevor – Trevor wants to say something, too, only the words stick in his throat and he feels as though he might choke with it. He feels himself flush, suddenly dizzy with the weight of everything, of what this is and what it means. He doesn’t have words for what he feels, or- or he does, but it’s been so long since he’s let himself go near even the thought of them that the idea of saying them out loud - even here, even safe and warm between the two people he cares for most in all the world – is just… it’s too much. He feels Sypha’s gaze on him, though, and Alucard’s on the back of his neck, and he wants more than anything to say – Christ, something, _anything_ , because God knows they both deserve it, and so he stutters out a leaden, “I- uh, you- um…” and then tails off, his face red and hot and his stomach feeling like a pool of ice. “Shit. Sorry. I’m not good with words.”

Sypha regards him for a moment, and then she kisses him, very chastely and very softly. “Trevor. Love is not a demand. You know that, right?”

He squirms, avoiding her level gaze. “I- you- but you know I-”

“Yes,” she says.

“And you, Alucard?”

“Mmm,” says Alucard, shuffling round slightly so that he’s hip-to hip with Trevor, head resting on his shoulder, arm loose around his waist. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Trevor swallows, thickly, and lets his breathing slow again as the two of them settle down against him. His eyes feel slightly damp, but given the soft, happy, snuffling noises Alucard is making, he doubts he’s the only one.

“Thank you,” he says, eventually, for want of a better way to say all the things he wants them to know.

They both press up against him, at that. Sypha kisses his shoulder, Alucard finds his hand beneath the covers and squeezes. Trevor lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and grins. He’s alright. He’s better than alright, actually. He’s safe. And he’s loved. And he loves them, too, and he’ll get to say it, whenever he feels up to it, somewhere down the line. God. He’s so fucking glad to be alive. That’s new.

They settle against each other, then, breath soft, eyes drifting closed. After a moment, Trevor whispers, “Hey, and, Alucard?”

Alucard shifts against him and hums softly, his voice soft and full of sleep. “Mmm. What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and even if your dick is longer than mine, mine’s definitely thicker, so, by _volume-_ ”

Sypha slams a pillow into his face. “Go the fuck to sleep, Trevor.”

“Mmm,” says Trevor, “anything for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” grumbles Alucard, pressing a sleepy kiss to the back of Trevor’s neck.

Trevor is still grinning when he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> SO... this one goes out to everyone who's been asking for this scene, you're all so fucking valid and I stan you. It also goes out to Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard, for being unbelievably horny and also Huge Clowns.
> 
> On a Medieval History note - yes, even the sex scene has historical facts attached, please don't question this - Trevor would probably be wearing a kind of underwear called 'braies', which are sort of deeply unsexy short-looking things. Frankly I didn't want to get into describing that so I just left it sort of vague, but just so you know, he was wearing old and probably slightly stained and very ugly underwear, and Alucard and Sypha STILL wanted to bone him, and that really is what true love is about.
> 
> On a title note, the day after Walpurgisnacht is May Day, which involves women in white dancing around a big phallic symbol, which is always fun. I imagine - this was in the text in an earlier draft, but got cut for pacing - that Sypha's orgy she references was on a May Day in a village they passed through somewhere, and her and a few of the young women from the town had a few ales in a barn and decided. Right. Sapphic time. Sypha is a bi icon, I love her, I would die for her.
> 
> In other news, I might post a second chapter to this at some point, if I can fight back my own visceral embarrassment about the word 'dick' for long enough to write sex scene two: electric boogaloo. But we'll see. Nothing is promised, everything is possible. 
> 
> Also, spit lube is probably a bad idea, but this is a fanfiction and not reality and honestly I just liked the concept, even if the reality would maybe not be so great. Also, Trevor and Sypha are both horny dumbasses, so it felt like Something They Would Probably Do. But, in real life, please lubricate your butt properly before you allow a very sexy witch to put her fingers in it. Please and thank you. God bless.
> 
> Huge huge shout out to the Castlevania discord for encouraging my bullshit, and for helping me proofread my Nonsense. 
> 
> Aaaand... that's it for notes! Thank you for reading!! Comments and kudos hugely appreciated, I genuinely can't say how nice the fandom has been to me and how much I appreciate all the thoughtful and kind feedback I've received. <3


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